


not my business (i got you)

by signifying_nothing



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Derogatory Language, F/M, in love with the best friend trope, poor confused hoseok, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6983107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hoseok's life is ruled by the mantra, "not my business" but it's hard to ignore the business of your best friend when you're kind of in love with said best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not my business (i got you)

**Author's Note:**

> may contain triggering language.

_My best friend is transgender,_ Hoseok thought. _And I don't know what to do._

He really didn't. Hoseok lived under a very strict “not my business” policy, even where his friends were concerned. They told him things, he accepted it, simple as that. He didn't care that Taehyung had been to prison, he didn't care that Jeongguk had this _thing_ about being a pastel punk.

“Hoseokah,” Namjoon had said. “I'm trans.”

“Okay,” Hoseok had replied. “So what should I call you?”

“Nayeon,” he'd... She'd. Said, grimacing, eyes full of tears. Hoseok had never seen her look so upset; not even when her girlfriend broke up with her, not even the first time she'd gotten drunk and cried over nothing for what felt like hours. It was a true and desperate kind of sorrow, the kind that made Hoseok's chest ache. She'd really thought he would reject her. She'd really thought he would turn his back on her and he was honestly a bit insulted, but more than that he was just so glad she trusted him with something so important and it wouldn't change anything, it wouldn't. “My name is Nayeon.”

Okay, no big deal. Nayeon was Namjoon is Nayeon, and there was no difference for Hoseok. He made it a point not to treat her differently than he always had, playfully punching her arm, physically threatening people who looked at her funny. They still went out drinking, they still went out dancing, even though Nayeon was a terrible dancer but at least now when they danced together no one stared at them like they were disgusting because Hoseok, he was dancing with a girl, and Nayeon was dancing with a boy, and nobody cared about that.

Hoseok didn't say anything when Nayeon's chest started to soften and her nipples showed through her loose t-shirts, when her facial hair disappeared or when her stomach started to get a bit squishy, her hips appearing to get wider. He assured her when she said she was fat, when she cried through the first really big adjustment to her dose, when she lamented over boys she would date if only she had the confidence. Hoseok didn't question her waxed legs or cute flats, her short skirts and blouses. She dressed like a model, always looked stunning, even in leggings, a sweatshirt, and a beanie.

But that was not his business. As long as Nayeon was happy, none of it mattered.

But then Nayeon got her first proper boyfriend. Eighteen months on estrogen and suddenly it was Hoseok's business. Because Nayeon was beautiful like she'd always been and for eight months some guy was putting his arms around her and kissing her neck while she squirmed and tried not to look uncomfortable, when she glanced away to glance at Hoseok, always at Hoseok and he found excuses to pull her up from his grip and take her to the bar to get her a drink, or go outside for a smoke, any number of things to keep her from furrowing her brow like that, from chewing on her chapped lower lip until it started to bleed. He did his best to keep her safe and comfortable.

Then, one night in June, she'd shown up at his shitty studio apartment with a busted lip and a black eye and raw knuckles and it was Hoseok's business because Nayeon wasn't crying but she wanted to be. He'd known her for years; he knew her hooded eyes and bitten cheeks. He knew the tension in her neck because she dropped her left shoulder when she was stressed, like she was still carrying a backpack. He knew intimately the ache in her spine like it was made of iron, like he did when they did track and had to rub the ache out of one another afterward.

“Nayeonah,” he said, letting her into the small space, opening his arms. She walked into them, pushed her face into his shoulder and let out one long, shuddering breath. It smelled like blood.

“Wonseok,” she said, after a moment of just standing there. “I told him.”

“And he did this to you?” The taste of sweat in her dark hair, the hard pound of her pulse. She'd run there, ran up the stairs at least, instead of taking the elevator. Hoseok felt his heart jump, felt his intestines turn in knots at the thought of her running, running away, for her life, afraid. “Did he chase you here?”

“No,” she said, voice shaking. She'd always hated crying, even when they were kids. She'd always hated it, and he'd never tried to talk her out of it, even though he'd always been emotional. He'd probably cried enough for both of them, back then. “No, I ran, I just. Hoseok.” Her voice broke on his name and it was Hoseok's business because she was crying, Kim Nayeon was crying hysterically into his shoulder and clinging to him, desperately holding on. “Hoseok,” she kept saying. “Hoseok, Hoseok.”

“I got you,” he said, voice grating. “I got you, Nayeonah, I got you.” He couldn't tell her it would be okay. He couldn't lie to her like that. Couldn't tell her to prepare herself because this probably wouldn't be the last time someone hurt her like this. The bruises on her knuckles told him she'd defended herself. That she'd had to. He couldn't promise there wouldn't be other people who would hurt her. All he could promise was that he'd be there to catch her when she fell.

“I've got you,” he whispered, when her legs gave out and she fell to the floor, pressed into his chest. He cradled her up and pushed his hand through her hair and tugged her into his lap, rocking her back and forth and back and forth and back, kissing her forehead, the top of her cheek.

“Hoseok,” she cried, her tears on his neck and her fingers twisted in his shirt. “Hoseok.”

~

Hoseok met Wonseok walking out of a bar three weeks later. He'd broken his nose without a word.

~

 _My best friend is transgender,_ Hoseok wrote. _And I still don't know what to do._ Only now he didn't know what to do for an entirely different reason. Nayeon had always been attractive; she was tall and tan with big lips and sweet dimples. Her hair was long, kissing her shoulders and her hands were delicate, tipped now with manicured fingernails. Hoseok didn't know what to do because honestly he'd thought she was good-looking before but she was _really_ good looking now that she was taking care of herself properly (eating well and smiling god she was so beautiful when she smiled) and he felt like a creep and a hypocrite for feeling that way. She was his _friend._ They'd been friends for years, they'd taken one another to prom, they'd shared all their stories, their mothers were friends, they'd grown up together.

Nayeon was his _friend_ and he was not going to fuck it up by thinking with his fucking dick.

“Hoseok,” she asked, and he jerked up from where he was writing, closing his notebook and blinking. “Are you coming?”

“Uh, where are we going again?”

“To Yoongi's,” she said. “Do you want to come?”

Yoongi was Like Nayeon, only in the opposite direction. She'd met him at a small get-together held twice a month for transgender people at the library, in a back room where they wouldn't be disturbed. He was made of fire and bad temper and a secret squishy softness he couldn't quite hide, which Nayeon thought was endearing and Hoseok thought was weird, but he was good company if nothing else, and sometimes he had weed, which was another great reason to _not go_ because the last thing Hoseok needed to be doing was being around Nayeon with his inhibitions down while she was wearing a pair of Daisy Dukes and a peasant blouse that showed off the tops of her golden shoulders and the straps of her lace bra. Bad idea, when she was wearing thin gold chains around her neck and gold bracelets, gold earrings and strappy gold sandals, a chain around her ankle with a tiny sand dollar charm. Nope. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

“Yeah, sure.”

... _God damnit._

“Lemme just get changed?”

“Okay.”

Nayeon stayed right where she was and Hoseok felt the creeping ice of discomfort up his belly. She was going to watch him change, because they'd always changed in the same room and why would that change now? Except that the thought of watching her change made him pop a semi and god he really didn't want her to think he was some kind of fucking pervert with a weird fetish for...

“Hoseok, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Gonna have a piss, though. Probably just change in there.”

The chance to escape made it easier to breathe. He leaned against the door to his bathroom and glared at himself in the mirror, hating his trembling fingers, the semi in his shorts, the way Nayeon's voice still made his heart squeeze every time she said his name. Nayeon made him feel weak and it wasn't his fucking business because he wasn't that kind of guy, he wasn't going to be that kind of fucking _creep._

He changed into skinnies and a comfortable t-shirt. Yoongi's boyfriend would probably be there so at least it wouldn't just be Hoseok; Jimin was good, funny company. Hoseok liked him a lot, so that would make it easier. He'd be distracted. He wouldn't have to talk to Nayeon too much, or look at her, or...

But on the way down to the car he couldn't help but watch the back of her neck, where the wisps of loose hair curled against her skin, where the tattoo at the top of her spine pushed up towards her head; a bright star, then Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, and so forth down her spine to the sun, resting at the curve of her lower back. He'd gone with her to get it tattooed, held her hand while she bit her lip and tried hard not to squirm.

In that moment he wanted nothing more than to take that star under his lips and kiss until Nayeon was breathless. He'd never give himself the chance. Nayeon deserved the fucking world and Hoseok, who worked in a thankless cubicle and spent his weekends in dance studios, could never give that to her.

~

Yoongi gave him the side-eye the whole night. Hoseok pretended not to notice.

~

“...I don't know what to do. I just don't fuckin' want her to think I just want her cos she's got tits now or something,” Hoseok said, pressing his hands into his eyes while Jimin listened, chin in his palm. “I don't fuckin' want her to think I'm some sorta fuckin' asshole with a trans fetish or some shit, I just don't—”

“Hoseok,” Jimin said, breaking through the rant Hoseok had been on for the last ten minutes, too drunk to function. He'd taken Hoseok away when he'd started to get twitchy, bringing him around to the back porch so they could talk quietly on their own. The parties were a great time, but to be honest Hoseok was glad for the Out. He wasn't... Uncomfortable, per se. Just felt like he was surrounded by people who fucking hated him because he was happy in his body the way it was. He knew that probably wasn't true but the more he thought about it, the more he looked up stuff online, the more worried he got. He was a worrier by nature, so it wasn't surprising, not really.

“Hoseok,” Jimin said again. “Have you talked to Nayeon about this at all?”

“Of course not,” Hoseok spat, hating himself and kind of wishing he could just magically zap home. “Of course not, shit, she's got enough to fuckin' worry about, don't you think? She doesn't need to be fuckin' worrying about my stupid ass.”

Nayeon was in the process of starting a new job, moving into a new place. She was establishing herself in the songwriting industry, they all knew her as Nayeon. They'd never known the person she used to be. They loved her, and Hoseok kind of hated that, because it wasn't... it wasn't fair. He'd been there through all of it. He'd been there before, and he'd be there after, and he'd... He'd cared for her for so fucking long and he'd tried so hard to keep it to himself because being Gay was a fuckin' sin or some shit and his mother would never forgive him. She'd forgive Nayeon for being who she was but not Hoseok.

But even now that Nayeon was Nayeon, Hoseok's mom still told him off every time he mentioned how pretty she was. _Don't get any ideas, Jung Hoseok,_ she'd say, and Hoseok would just murmur a _yes mom_ and they would pretend the conversation never happened because that was how they did things.

She knew Hoseok was in love with Nayeon and had been since they were fucking twelve and were still figuring out what the fuck they were doing with the bits between their legs. Not that Hoseok cared about that, he'd only ever really cared about _her_. God, he didn't care, and that was the problem.

“I really think you need to talk to her.”

“I ain't talkin' t'her.”

“Hoseok.”

“No, Jimin, you don't get it. You don't.” Hoseok fisted a hand in his hair and pulled. He was too fucking drunk for this. “You met Yoongi... You met him after. He knew who he fuckin' was and I... Nayeon... She just. I watched it, right? Watched her fuckin' change, watched her get so fuckin' happy and so beautiful, god, Jimin, she's always been hot but now she's fuckin' beautiful, she's fuckin' makin' somethin' of herself and I just can't...” Hoseok trailed off and kind of hated that there was hot wetness itching on his face. Shit, he hated crying. Made him feel stupid and young. “She deserves everything,” he whispered, and Jimin's hand on his back felt more like a hot iron than a comfort. “N'I can't give it to her.”

“What if she doesn't _want_ everything?” Jimin asked, his voice gentle. “You haven't even asked her what she wants. Maybe she wanted you too, Hoseok, maybe she's scared to say anything. You should ask her.”

“No.”

“Hoseok.”

“ _No,_ ” he hissed, and Jimin sighed, pushing away from him.

“Fine,” he said, stretching. “I'm going back inside. You stay out here and brood, I'll talk to you later.”

In the silence that spread after Jimin left, Hoseok sniffled until he felt under control. He was still too drunk for this (though he was mostly just really tipsy; he hadn't lost his hand-eye coordination yet) and he just wanted to go home.

“Hoseokah?”

Nayeon's voice was a balm and a burn all at once.

“Yeah,” he asked, not turning around.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry. Just needed some air.”

“You sure?”

Her voice was small and worried and Hoseok hated himself. “Yeah,” he nodded, turning to give her a flash of all the smile he could manage. “Yeah, it's just crowded. Think I might go home.”

“You're not gonna drive, are you?”

“Nah, I took a cab, so I'll just catch one.” He stood and stretched his arms over his head and jerked in surprise when Nayeon's arms wrapped around his waist and her cheek pressed to his shoulder.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” she said, her breath on the back of his neck making him pop a fuckin' semi in his sweats. “Wanna know you got there okay, you drunk fuck.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, swallowing hard and only relaxing when she let go of him to head back inside. “Yeah,” he said to no one, making his way around the house to the street.

~

 _Have you talked to her yet?_ Jimin asked. _Fuck right off,_ Hoseok replied.

~

It's been forever since the two of them just hung out.

Hoseok avoided being alone with Nayeon at all cost, it was just what he did now. He'd been doing it for so long, he didn't see the point in changing the behavior. Besides, Nayeon's life was none of his business. Her come-and-go boyfriends, her relationship with her parents, none of that was his business. She'd tell him if she wanted him to know and that was that.

So he was a bit confused as to why they were hanging out, watching some bad sci-fi movie with the lights on and her head on his lap. She was asleep anyway, she never could stay awake for a whole movie. Even in the blue-green light of the TV her skin looked gold, and Hoseok reached down to brush a lock of hair from her mouth. Her face was turned towards his belly and he pursed his lips, let his fingers move over her cheek as she sighed and rolled over, pressed her forehead to his stomach and curled in on herself. Hoseok's heart tightened painfully.

She'd just broken up with a guy last week. Some tall, handsome dude who made a fuckton of money and was always trying to impress her. Nayeon hadn't been impressed with him flashing his money around, apparently. She had her own cash, she didn't need his.

 _But it still hurt,_ she'd said to him when she'd first gotten there. _Like... Why should I even bother, if all these dudes are gonna do is treat me like some kind of kid they can woo with pretty jewelry and shit?_

Hoseok had given a rather helpless shrug. _I dunno, Nayeonah._

_You wouldn't try to woo me with pretty jewelry, would you, Hoseok?_

_You know I can't afford that shit,_ Hoseok had laughed too loud to cover his discomfort and they'd changed the topic of conversation to something less dangerous, like Hoseok's tiny promotion or how he was taking a new class on Saturdays. Shit they used to talk about that slowly had become less important when Nayeon was off fuckin' living her life and Hoseok... Hoseok was stuck.

_My best friend is transgender, and I'm in love with her, and I don't know what to do._

Hoseok felt his eyes welling despite himself. People online could be fucking cruel. He'd turned to the internet community because he hadn't known what to do or how to feel or what to feel. He was fuckin' scared of what he was feeling and being attacked for being a fetishist or whatever the hell was just... Traumatizing, is what it was. Hoseok loved Nayeon. He'd loved her before, he loved her now, he wasn't looking for a... For a...

_Just go fuck a tranny porn star you sick cunt._

“Seokah?”

“Yeah,” he asked, tipping his head forward.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, watching Nayeon sit up and wipe at her mouth with her sleeve, wincing a bit. Her lip piercings were still sensitive, she'd said: the snakebites, tiny little diamonds, glinted in the low light. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

“You don't seem okay,” she said, and Hoseok swallowed. _Why don't you just ask her,_ Jimin had said. It seemed like better advise than what he'd gotten from most. The most frightening advise, but the most likely to work.

“It's just...” he trailed off, swallowed hard. Four years of Nayeon being Nayeon. Twenty years before that, ten of which were spent being quietly in love with the person he'd known as Namjoon back then, whose beautiful smile hadn't changed, whose beautiful _self_ hadn't changed. “If... Nayeonah, I mean, if you had feelings for someone you'd tell them, right? You ain't a fuckin' coward or anything.”

Nayeon blinked at him. She was backlit by the television screen and her hair haloed her head, recently dyed silver and cut into a asymmetrical shape, wild and pretty. Hoseok wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair and kiss her like he'd always dreamed. “I don't... I mean I guess not? Why, what's wrong? You finally get a boner for someone? I never thought this day would come! Single-for-life Jung Hoseok has _finally_ developed feelings for someone!”

“Shut up,” Hoseok muttered, blushing hard as Nayeon laughed and ruffled his hair.

“So who's the lucky person, huh? They gotta be something special to get _your_ attention.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok said. “Yeah, she... She is.”

“Ooh, it's a girl~” Nayeon teased, sitting up and crossing her legs. “Tell me about her, I want all the details.” But Hoseok had known Nayeon for years. He knew her hooded eyes and bitten cheeks. He knew the tension in her neck, her dropped left shoulder, the ache in her spine like it was made of iron. He knew when she was trying to hold back being upset and he couldn't stand it, couldn't stomach the thought of being in love with someone who wasn't Kim Nayeon.

“She's gorgeous,” he said. “I mean I... Every time I see her I just kind of choke, you know? People I like make me nervous.” Nayeon nodded and Hoseok swallowed. “Every time I see her I just want to kiss her, I want... I want to _be_ with her, and I'm so fuckin' scared she won't want me, Nayeonah.”

“Who wouldn't want you?” Nayeon asked. “You're A plus boyfriend material, Jung Hoseok.”

“You're A plus girlfriend material, Kim Nayeon,” he said, and he watched her swallow. Watched her throat bob and her tongue peek out to lick her lips. “Every time I see you,” his voice tightened. “I want to kiss you.”

“Hoseok,” she said, and Hoseok realized she had a hand braced on his chest and was holding him to the back of the couch. “Hoseok if you're lying to me I swear to god—”

“When have I ever lied to you,” he asked, reaching up to cup her face. “When have I ever lied to you, Kim Nayeon,” he brought her closer. “Tell me, if you can think of a time.”

“You told me you were okay,” Nayeon whispered. Hoseok could feel her breath on his lips. “You told me you were okay, you were lying to me. You weren't okay, were you, Hoseok? It was hard for you.”

“No,” Hoseok shook his head and pulled Nayeon in and she fisted her hands in his hair and held him for a kiss, her tongue tracing his teeth while his hands gripped her hips and she made her way into his lap. When she pulled back Hoseok chased her, settled for kissing her neck, the exposed curve of her collarbones. “No, Nayeon.”

“Hoseok,” she whispered, and they kissed again, and again, and again. “Hoseok, Hoseok.”

“I got you,” he breathed, his hands on her back and keeping her steady. “I got you, Nayeonah.”

 


End file.
